


Cuddle Crusher

by GordonFrost (Blue_Eyes)



Series: Fluffy Assassins Sleepover [2]
Category: After Midnight - Fandom, After Midnight-Santino Hassell, Santino Hassell
Genre: Gcubed, M/M, the writer sucks at smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:22:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Eyes/pseuds/GordonFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Adam is an extreme cuddler in bed and crushes Gordon practically every night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuddle Crusher

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be only fluff, but then I was tricked into writing terrible smut. And I mean terrible quality. I apologize for botching it.

Gordon stirred awake, not for any good reason like a full bladder or hunger pains. No, his eyes were open wide because he thought he had forgotten how to breathe. His chest was being dangerously crushed. Actually, scratch that. His  _entire_ body felt like a steamroller was parked on top of it. Gordon needed to get oxygen back into his lungs, but when his fingers finally crawled to his chest, it met a solid back, and hair slightly tickled at his neck.

Adam.

Mr. Greek God was deceptively heavy, and probably weighed three times more when he was sleeping like the dead. On top of Gordon. “Ugh, Adam,” he croaked out, giving a weak attempt to push him off. Inhaling a shallow breath, he tried again. “Adam!” It didn’t come out like the yell he had hoped for. Instead of wasting another breath, he awkwardly bent his other arm out from under Adam’s, crossing it over so he could pull the man’s hair. “Too hot.”

 

Adam finally groaned. “No,” and arms clung tighter around Gordon. How did he end up like this? The man who stalked him through alleyways, tapped his phone, and put him in the middle of several life-threatening incidents also hung on to him the same way koalas cling to their tree branches. Each limb tangled around one of his, and for having a body carved out of stone, Adam was a human furnace in bed. 

Gordon pulled a little harder at the fistful of dark hair. Frustration was winning out over self-restraint. “B-breath,” he forced his hips upward. In an ideal world, the movement would have allowed for even a little breathing room or at least another centimeter to wiggle his way out of the death grips.  But as Gordon knew, they weren’t living in an ideal world. It only made the situation worse. Adam’s head now laid more against his chest, hearing the pounding heart beat desperately looking for oxygen. Adam moved his arms lower around Gordon. The redhead’s hands pushed on the assassin’s shoulders.

“Gordon,” Adam said hoarsely. He shifted, moving his cheek to the middle of Gordon’s chest, and Gordon inhaled a deep breath.

“Thank fucking god…you were suffocating me!”

“I believe that would be too easy.”

Blue eyes glanced down at the muss of black hair. “You’re fucking kidding, right?”

“It has been on more than once occasion.” Adam curled his lower body upward so all of his was somehow in contact with Gordon.

One blanket covered the both of them, but their feet stuck out. Gordon just sighed and tangled his fingers in Adam’s hair. It was almost a sign of giving up, or defeat, because it was true. Many times Adam had crushed his smaller frame against walls and tables, the hood of a car; and each incident, Gordon lost breath, always asking to be crushed harder, wanting more physical contact than what was possible. Okay, maybe he didn’t actually ask, but Adam understood what he wanted. Half of their relationship didn’t need voiced words or feelings. It happened, anyway, of course, with Gordon’s snark and Adam’s serious bites.

“I know I’m easy to push around.”

“Yes,” was the clipped response. Adam obviously wanted to continue sleeping and Gordon took a sour satisfaction in knowing how annoying this was.

“At least no one pushes me around like you do, sweetheart.” Gordon smirked, the idea already in his head as he wiggled his hips. They didn’t move much, what with the crushing weight of a Greek god and all, but it was enough to get a reaction. “It’s barely morning. And I have to take a piss.”

“You won’t find a stash in the bathroom. I disposed of it all myself. The proper way.”

“As if you fucking know where I keep my PD stashes.”

Adam immediately pushed himself up on his hands, lunging forward so his face was just above Gordon’s. “The bathroom drawer, in that pillow you’re laying on, the closer, and yes, the kitchen, too. Do not attempt to strip me of my intelligence again.” The intensity hiding just beneath the surface of those black eye stirred something within Gordon and he could feel his cheeks turn hot, sucking in a sharp breath.

“There’s more,” he nervously swallowed.

“I am aware. I intend to find out where.”

Adam silently rolled over, twice, his hand also guiding Gordon to turn onto his side. Adam was now lying behind Gordon, an arm draped over his waist while the other acted as a pillow. “Have you forgotten that I should have killed you?”

Gordon lay down on his back again, refusing to just be a moveable prop. “It wouldn’t have mattered, to be fucking honest. Carla’s have the cash.”

“You should be more grateful about surviving.”

“One less flailing idiot in the world, right?”

“Yes,” Adam breathed into Gordon’s ear. “Though the world would do better with less flailing idiots, you are not the worst of them. I wouldn’t want to add another undeserving death to these hands.” Those hands, Adam’s hands that had the quiet power of murder covering them, while they were gentle and loud whenever the situation between them got heated. Like now, because Adam saw a worth in Gordon that Gordon didn’t—couldn’t—quite grasp. Why should the masterful Son of Apollo find a unique attraction in the awkward ginger? All his life, every unlikely bedfellow happened while under the blissful high of Pandora, and most anyone would look attractive after having taken a cap. Gordon didn’t deny his immediate response to Adam, but he wasn’t expecting it to be reciprocated, or even on a deeper level than physical features.

Something had crawled beneath their skin, wrapping around like a rubber band so they had to always come back to each other. It was ridiculous and Gordon still didn’t believe it was real. However, he also couldn’t dismiss Adam’s attachment. The men even said he had been serious from the beginning. Gordon trusted it more now.

He had been silent for longer than it seemed in his head. Adam had already snuggled into another comfortable position against Gordon. “So you’ll threaten me until I’m dead, but you don’t want to kill me. That’s a little fucked up.”

“If it was necessary I would kill you. My threats are never meaningless, either.”

“Yeah, right,” Gordon scoffed.

“Are you suggesting that I’m not serious about them?”

“Well, words without actions are—“

Gordon cut off when Adam’s had swiftly slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck. He bucked forward slightly, eradicating any space that had been between them. Growling low into Gordon’s ear, Adam whispered, “They’re what, Gordon? Tell me.”

Gordon moaned, a little louder than he thought. Sounds around him were getting polluted with his pulse and the blood circulation slowly being cut off. Gordon’s hand instinctively moved towards Adam’s, loosely curling around the large wrist. The rest of his body restlessly squirmed but Adam quickly pinned him down, using legs and forcing his body further down so he felt impossibly heavy.

Adam barely let out a hiss seeing Gordon’s mouth slack, head thrown back. It was far from ecstasy, though. He eased off on the pressure, allowing the blood to return to Gordon’s head and Gordon was hyper aware of Adam’s lips caressing his cheek, taking extra care to softly kiss the scar, lingering longer than a moment. Gordon’s breath hitched. It took all his focus not to flinch away from the painfully gentle touch. Adam was still trying to get Gordon to accept it as not being something disgusting or hideous. He liked to trace Adam’s scars once in a while—why couldn’t he feel the same way about his own?

“I don’t know how you do this to me, Gordon.” The younger man did get pleasure knowing how much control Adam didn’t have with him. “Every time,” he groaned, pushing against Gordon’s ass.

“Adam, just,  _please._ ” He almost wanted to ask why Adam had to be the hottest assassin to ever attack him in the alley, but,  _oh yeah_ , he was the  _only_ assassin to have attacked him in the alley.

“Please, what?” Adam needed to hear it, enjoyed losing control and diving off the edge whenever he had Gordon pleading and begging, moaning more than he ever did while on a PD high.

“You know how I always want you. Want you so fucking bad.” Gordon’s fingers rested against Adam’s neck, sitting up as much as he could and did his best to guide Adam closer. First contact was kind; Adam then sucked in Gordon’s bottom lip.

“Pants off.” Adam moved enough for Gordon to bend down and kick the clothing off his legs. Gordon came back up and wrapped his arms around Adam.

“I love when you’re itching to fuck me. It’s tender loving shit, but then you really get going…If I could see you fall apart every day like this,” Gordon paused to smirk, carefully tucking a lock of black hair behind Adam’s ear, but the strands weren’t long enough to stay so Gordon kept his hand tangled.

Adam’s heart pounded. He wanted it, needed it now, needed to feel his cock fucking relentlessly into Gordon’s ass. “Shut up or I’ll throw you against the wall.”

“As long as you’re gonna pound my ass, I don’t care where you want to do it.”

“Just shut up.” Adam lowered and kissed Gordon harshly, rough and teeth and tongue, nipping at Gordon’s lips again and reaching down to palm Gordon’s erection. Gordon didn’t talk, but he gave back as much as he was getting, canting his hips, silently begging for more. Gordon buried his hands under Adam’s pajama pants and pushed them down to his thighs.

“I can’t be the only one without pants,” Gordon said as he gripped Adam’s dick.

“I have been. You didn’t complain.”

“Until you were walking away.”

“I’m not walking away now.”

“At least you’d be able to hide.”

“Without a trace,” Adam finished, getting annoyed of the talking. He grazed over Gordon’s neck, sucking a nice bruise into the skin.

“Fuck me, Adam,” Gordon whispered, layered with want and lust, lifting his hips upward into Adam’s grip.

Adam snarled. Gordon found himself suddenly flipped onto his stomach. They didn’t care about it being sensual or slow. Gordon got onto his knees, putting his ass out for easier access. Adam slicked his cock with spit, one hand on Gordon’s hips to steady himself as he pushed into the tight hole.

Gordon gripped onto the headboard, begging for more Adam snapped his hips harder, holding Gordon n strong, hard to escape from holds, and fucking harder into his ass. There was a dissipating pain mixing with the pleasure. “Fuck, yes,” Gordon hoarsely moaned. “Fuck, c’mon, harder,” Adam’s arm wrapped under Gordon, bringing him fully onto his knees, back solid against Adam’s hard chest.

“Oh shit,” Gordon held the headboard tighter. He felt the hand resting closer to his neck and switched from gripping the headboard to hanging on to the toned arms holding him upright. Adam was the only one to drive him this crazy. Gordon fell completely out of his mind, consumed by the intensity and effort Adam added. Not a single detail could be forgotten. Not the way Adam was leaving bruises on his body, or how he could have exploded a few times by now if Adam had let him. It was a tease, fucking hard and groaning loud into his ear, slowing the pace whenever he was close to orgasm. Everything happening had to be on Adam’s terms. So when Adam held Gordon’s neck fairly loose, hips canting forward quicker and rougher Gordon knew he was going to combust, from the inside out.

“Don’t forget this,” Adam’s hand slightly shook. He would never let Gordon forget what his strength could do. “You’re mine,” he growled, hot breath driving the redhead mad.

“Oh fuck, Adam,” Gordon slipped among incoherent cries, the heat building quickly. He got off on the fact that the same man pleasuring him could kill. He would die blissful in these hands, getting fucked like this. He could barely handle the audible lust in Adam’s quiet groans.

Adam repeated, ,”You’re mine,” taking Gordon to the deepest pleasure, rolling his hips again and again until Gordon was coming all over the sheets and his stomach. The assassin hissed, burying his orgasm inside Gordon’s ass.

They sunk heavier onto each other, a moment passing to catch their breaths and return to reality. “Fucking shit, man.” Adam answered by placing a soft kiss over one of the recent hickeys. “Adam.”

“Stay quiet for a minute,” he pulled out and collapsed. Gordon was in the same predicament before things got sexual between them.

“Can’t fucking breathe.” And this time, Mr. Greek god didn’t mind rolling off to the side. Adam still entangled their limbs. It was still barely morning, after all. The sheets could be washed later, and it’s not like they were actually sleeping on the mess, because it was covered with another blanket and a pillow ensured the secure covering until they were out of bed and ready to wash the laundry. Gordon sighed. “There isn’t another stash,” he confessed warily.

“I am aware. It was amusing beating you at your own game. Like I said, don’t try to strip me of my intelligence.” Gordon couldn’t think of a response because he knew Adam could see through everything. Training from The Agency pretty much guaranteed he was in a top percent. Breathing evened out, and soon Gordon could tell Adam was already half way to sleep. He dumbly smiled and curled back around him, as well.

It would be another four hours before either of them woke up again.


End file.
